Dust of Many Roads
by Ananke
Summary: POST-FIN, Gabrielle, Xena, Eve, and Ares face tomorrow and attempt to reconcile the past. Possibly the first in a series.


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Disclaimer: Xena: Warrior Princess and all related characters copyright of Studios USA. No copyright infringement intended.  
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But look what we've done together, look how we've changed! Thanks to you, the dust of many roads has scuffed my shoes...  
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"You are the warrior princess's successor."  
  
Turning away from the final threads of sunset, Gabrielle met the gaze of the young native coming up the peak towards her. A vaguely familiar girl, face expectant and peaceful, probably from the crowds of Higuchi. "Don't you think its a little early to be replacing her?"  
  
"Xena is dead. She will not return. All things pass, and only if they pass smoothly can life transpire as needed."  
  
"You make it sound so natural." Standing, the warrior bard shook her head, fingers clenching around the chakram. Heavy weight, alive weight. "It isn't. It wasn't. I could have saved her. I wanted to save her."  
"But a samurai would rather die a warrior, than live as a coward."  
"Yeah." Gabrielle smiled bitterly, pushing past her and pressing down the mountainside. "Maybe my people are less noble than yours, but that's just cold comfort to those of us left behind."  
The girl matched her stride, hands crossing behind her back, loose hair swinging. "And Akemi. How do you feel about her?"  
  
"I hate her." The words came almost without thought. Regret followed, but perhaps not as strongly as possible.   
  
"Your Xena will be sharing her paradise."  
  
"No." The bard paused, staring. "I don't believe that. Look, I don't pretend to understand the workings of the afterlife, but I do know that Xena has her own paradise waiting for her...her mother, her son wait in the Elysian Fields. She's sacrificed enough. No deity would take that from her as well."  
  
"But you said it yourself, you do not understand the workings of paradise. Not knowing, can you be certain that spreading Xena's ashes on Mount Fuji would have brought her back? You can't be certain, can you? Why the endless guilt over a destiny that was never yours to control at all?"  
  
The bard sighed, fingers loosening from the chakram and moving up to touch her companion's arm. "Because guilt makes a person feel alive...even when we might wish we were dead."  
  
"I see." Soft, steel-laced, the girl's tones became almost achingly familiar.   
  
"Xena." Taking her companion's shoulders, the bard stared into the obsidian eyes, searching for a hint of familiarity.   
  
"No." The girl shook her head, stepping back. "Xena is gone. Someday...you will cease to search for even the echo of her. In time. It is the only true healer, Gabrielle."  
  
"Perhaps. Or perhaps not." The warrior bard dismissed the words with a hand wave. "Can you get me on a ship?"  
  
"You will leave so soon?" Despite her earlier attempts to instigate healing, the girl seemed surprised.   
  
"There's nothing here but ghosts...and the only one I want has no reason not to come with me."  
  
"I see." The delicate head nodded fractionally. "You wish to leave this night?"  
  
"If possible. I'll be at the docks soon...just have to pick up a few things."  
  
*  
  
Scant hours later, She was on an outgoing vessel, Xena's armor under one arm, the little urn box in the other.  
  
"Traveling heavy, are we?" A lilting, understanding voice cut through her reverie, and she turned, watching the captain of the vessel approach. He nodded greeting, eyes falling to the box. The bard gripped it more tightly.   
  
"If your men are superstitious..."  
  
"They can jump over." A quick, cutting flash of amusement glinted in his eyes. "We've all heard of Xena's exploits, and your own. To be her funeral transport is both out agony and our honor. Consider my vessel your own."  
  
"Thank you." Fighting the lump in her throat, she nodded, grip loosening. "I won't forget the kindness."  
  
"Ah, and that's more trusted reassurance than even that the gods give us." He nodded, walking away.  
  
Smiling slightly, Gabrielle turned back to the railing, staring down at the box reverently, tears stinging. She had no idea what to say, what could possibly be said, but Xena deserved a tribute, here, at her final battleground. Inhaling, she reached from the heart. "A life of journeying has brought you to the farthest lands, to the very edge of the earth..."  
  
The voice from her side *was* familiar that time, and her smile genuine. Xena continued smoothly, softly. "And to the place where I'll always remain …your heart. So where to now?"  
  
The bard considered. "I think we should go south to the land of the Pharaohs. I hear they need a girl with a chakram."  
  
Xena's smile was felt more than seen, more radiant than that any mere mortal could have ever possibly given. "Where you go … I'm at your side."  
  
Gabrielle nodded, at peace for a moment, just a moment, but enough. "I knew you'd say that."  
*  
The sea. Gabrielle despised it, always had, and the further along into the journey they got, the worse she felt. Despite all her best efforts, staying upbeat simply wasn't working.  
  
"Xena." The bard turned away from the railing, meeting her friend's gaze. "You say you haven't left my side since...the sunset. If that's so, you heard what that native girl told me on Mount Fuji."  
  
A faint frown furrowed Xena's brows. "Yeah, I suppose I did."  
  
"Then you heard her tell me..." Gabrielle sighed, turning back to stare down into the water. "Is it true that in time I won't be able to see you, sense you?"  
  
"When that happens, it happens, Gabrielle. We've got today. Leave the future there."  
  
"I can't do that." Honesty made the statement forceful. "Xena, it's my future. You...Xena, you don't have one. I have to protect myself now. If I'm going to lose you completely, I want to be ready for it. I don't want to grow dependent of a fading spirit. And what about you? As long as you look over my shoulder, you're missing your own afterlife."  
  
"Well." A cocky grin crossed the beautiful face. "If you're that eager to brush your old mentor off..."  
  
"That isn't what I meant. I don't want to lose you, Xena. But I don't want to hold you back."  
  
"Hey." Strong fingers came up to flick the first tear away. "I told you I wanted to spend my last thirty seconds looking in your eyes. I forgot to mention that I'd happily spend thirty millennia after death doing the same. I'm here because its where I belong, Gabrielle. If a time should come when that changes, we'll deal with it then."  
  
"But the Elysian Fields. Xena, you have Solon to go to."  
  
The former warrior princess sighed. "There's a time for everything."  
  
"And you're not telling me something. She was right, Xena, wasn't she? You can't go to the Elysian Fields. For some reason...Xena, I'll help you. Just tell me how..." Looking away briefly, the bard turned back to face empty wind.  
  
*  
  
The sea was restless.  
  
Shifting in her bunk, Gabrielle threw a hand up, reassuring herself that the urn...and its contents...still rested safely above her head. Sitting up, the warrior bard lifted her head, peering through a small porthole. "I'd do anything for that seasickness potion of yours right now, Xena."  
  
Only the faintly sickening slap of foam against the hull answered. Sighing, she steeled herself, taking the urn into her hands and moving above decks. It was a warm predawn, a beautiful day for homecoming.  
  
Doras, the ships captain, moved to her side. He was a beefy man, a gentle man, and the journey home had been subdued, respectfully mournful, and filled with laughter and companionship. He had been more a father than Herodotus, and she found guilt in the comparison. Even now his eyes cut into her, all pity and protection. "We'll be reaching shore any time now. If you'd be liking an escort, I can hire a man..."  
  
"No." Dry, low, the words broke free. "That won't be necessary."  
  
"But a girl like you, wandering alone with Xena's ashes..."  
  
"I can take care of myself." Briefly, frustration rose in her. "And I'm no girl. Xena's ashes are my responsibility. Leave it at that."  
  
"If that's what you be wanting." Doras nodded, taking no offense, merely leaning against the outer rail. "Look here, and the morning rising bright and beautiful."  
  
"Doras." Glancing down, she flattened her own small hand over his sea-roughened, dark one. "I appreciate it all. You've been a savior on the trip, and your care is an honor to Xena...don't believe me ungrateful. I just need to make my own way."  
  
The swarthy man grinned sadly, patting their clasped hands with his free one. "I thought as much, my own daughter had that fire in her voice...ah, you'll make it, bard. You'll make it just right, but I cannot say the road looks fair."  
  
*  
  
Gently spurring her horse on, the wanderer replayed that last conversation in her mind, grip relaxing on the reins as Argo's progeny fell into trusty rhythm.   
  
The voyage home had been interesting, to a fault, and many a port had tempted her, but some of the magic of the bazaars and crowds had gone, and the timeless glory of the coast had proven more painful than soothing. Greece, and home, had been her sole desire for months now, and so it was on that path she traveled.   
  
Understand, Xena. The words came silently and regretfully. Someday we'll go back, you and I, but this time, this journey, has to be my own.   
  
No reply echoed, and none was expected, or, truthfully, wanted. Having Xena at her side as a companion spirit, capable of speech and touch...no, not desired, not now. If given shoulder to lean on at the moment, she would atrophy, and wither. Years had taught her that. Years that were leading her home, and taking away another link to an already abysmally blurred past age. Time held course for no one.   
  
Even Xena.  
  
Knees digging in more firmly, the warrior bard galloped on.  
  
Hours later, Gabrielle slid from the beast's back, fingers combing through the raven mane gently. "Good girl. Run free, I won't be needing you again yet."  
  
"We could have made good use of that horse around here." Stepping up to her side, the daughter of Xena slid a gentle hand around her companion's waist in support, blue eyes taking in the galloping animal with wistful respect.  
  
"Never hold a free spirit captive for labor you can do yourself. She's served her share...I'll find you a younger horse. Let Argo's wildchild wander free."  
  
Eve smiled, leading the way to the humble home ahead. "Its good to have you back, Gabrielle."  
  
The bard turned her head away, capturing the dying sunset with tired eyes. "Is it too late to be called Aunt again?"  
  
"Never. I haven't forgotten what it is you are to me. A friend. A supporter. An aunt. A second mother, I suppose. The first would greatly appreciate that thought."  
  
"You're so much like her, at times..." Brushing the thoughts away, Gabrielle smiled, face lightening. "He's here?"  
  
"He had no one else to turn to. I couldn't turn him away, past crimes and connections aside."  
  
"He's badly hurt."  
  
"Were he mortal, I don't believe he would survive the week. As an immortal...I wish I could say. He seems to believe an end is coming, demanded to see you. I believe he wants to say goodbye to someone."  
  
"I can't bring her back, Eve. I've tried, gods know, I've tried. I'm as powerless as he against this."  
  
"I know, Aunt Gabrielle." Hugging the older woman, the dark-haired messenger sighed. "But this isn't about Mother. He...he was injured bringing very special gifts to me. But...I'll tell you of that later. You'd best go in and see him now."  
  
---  
  
Darkness, sunlight flickering through slanted windows. He looked frail, broken, lost in the down bed, weighed down by cover and shade and death. Moving away from the entrance, Gabrielle shut the bedchamber door quietly, turning to speak, softly.  
  
He stirred, looking up, voice overriding hers with the same drawling complaint as remembered. "I offered you the world."  
  
"You were a god, Ares. Even if you'd had it, the world would have meant nothing to you."  
  
"Yes." Reflective, wry, castigating, his voice lashed through the room. "I was a god."  
  
"You do seem to be testing your mortal limits these days, Ares." Slipping onto the bed beside him, she dipped a rag into a basin of cool water, using it to gingerly swab at his unshaven face and bruised chest. "My gods, what did you do?"  
  
His hands, still beefy, but weaker, paler, moved up to intercept, grasping her wrists. "There are internal injuries, the bruising is part of it. Nothing can be done. Eve tried. She still has her mothers hands..."  
  
"I wouldn't tell Virgil that."  
  
"A fool. Like his father."  
  
"But a lucky fool."  
  
"Unlike his father." The grip loosened, a hand moving upward to trace her mouth, explore her face. "Who could blame the idiot for loving you?"  
  
"Ares, you almost sound as if you care."  
  
He laughed, a rumble that brought a grimace to his already pained face. She managed a smile, letting her fingers rest on his shoulder, taking in the dark eyes. "How did this happen to you, Ares? Haven't we restored your godhood often enough?"  
  
"Not asking you to, this time." His eyes shut, face puckering up in faint agony, wry self-castigation.  
  
"I could try. I'm not Xena, but I have a few tricks..."  
  
"No, you aren't Xena. And I don't want your pitiful attempts." Angry, scornful, he glared at her. Wearing arrogance like a shroud, she thought perceptively, pushing hands under his shoulders to lift him higher on the pillows. Not an entirely easy task, he was still strong, inhuman strength and force and blood flowing beneath the surface. He seemed to read her puzzlement, and laughed again, lips curling up. "I'm not...dying. Not as you mortals understand it. The wound will heal, of its own volition, but I won't be awake afterward. I need for you to take me to the Cave of Hephaestus."  
  
"Hibernation." It was known, and she frankly wasn't surprised. Olympus simply wasn't a pulse of life anymore, and even Ares could be worn down by life...and death.  
  
"Oh, don't label it with a term for inferiors. Seclusion. Regeneration. Preparation. I'll be back, someday. Fates be unjust, you'll no doubt be there as well, in one of your reincarnations. You won't be lonely for long."  
  
"What makes you think I'm lonely?"  
  
"Oh, I don't know. The fact that you cry yourself to sleep...oh, every night. The fact that you walk into warriors taverns at random and think you see Xena. The fact that you've actually begun to wish Hope had survived, just to assuage your maternal urgings."  
  
"I have Eve. I don't need a beast who begets beasts...with your help."  
  
"Oh, you poor thing. You have Eve. How blessed. She's a nice kid, don't get me wrong...not at all like the firebrand I knew and...lusted for...called Livia. Very good-hearted, my hostess. Yeah, you've got Eve. Feels empty, doesn't it?"  
  
"You don't know me, Ares. You don't know any of us. You know nothing of family, or mortal bonds...everything is a strategy for you. Even love. Oh, I know you've loved, you loved Xena, you loved Livia in your own twisted way, you've had your...chances. But you always ruin them. You try to hide the best aspects of yourself, and since Xena's death, you haven't been able to do that, have you? Something eats at you, through all that immortal power...you grieve, and it is destroying you. You've lost the will to continue. The world might be a better place for it, but..."  
  
"Am I to assume you care?"  
  
"Oh, I care." She smiled mirthlessly. "If I didn't, I suppose I would have been wise enough not to have come. Why did you summon me?"  
  
"I want to offer you the world again."  
  
"I've no use for your immortality, Ares, or your power. I've lived long enough without Xena."  
  
"Oh, so bitter. You wear it well, too."  
  
She sat back, fingers toying with the fur coverlet, gaze moving to his. "When you took Xena to the ice caves..."  
  
"Ah, those." His gaze seemed distant for a moment, awash in a peculiar mixture of pain and amusement.  
  
"Why did you return for me? Why not leave me?"  
  
"Because your presence was always the greater part of her strength, and because I knew, whether she awoke in ten years or a thousand, she would need every source of strength I could offer. And, maybe, just because I admired you, with your stubborn arrogance and morality."  
  
"I was always the wall between you and Xena."  
  
"Oh, it was an ice wall, and one I could have melted. I could have had her. Or you, but it would have meant sacrificing a fun game."  
  
"You never change, Ares." Her smile was ironic.  
  
"Well." He steepled his hands, half-lidded eyes filled with pain. "With this retreat on the way, you never know, bard. I might wake up very irritable down the road."  
  
Gabrielle shook her head, standing. "I'll call Eve in. Do your...uh...hibernation thing, Ares. I'll get you to the Cave of Hephaestus."  
  
"I know you will." His eyes closed briefly, breath evening off.  
  
"Ares." Gently, almost involuntarily, she reached out a hand, pushing a wayward lock of dark hair off his forehead. "She did love you."  
  
"And I think I loved you both, somehow." His voice trailed off, caught up in the beginnings of sleep. "Love and war never were exclusive, ask 'Dite and Cupid about that..."  
  
"Ares." Forcefully, she shook his shoulder. "Ares, come on. We still need to talk. Don't do this now. Just because Xena gave up on life doesn't mean you can't go down kicking and screaming..."  
  
"Just a nap." He protested, cranking an eye open and giving his most annoyed glare.  
  
"For you, maybe. I'm mortal, I don't have time to wait for you to wake up with all the secrets to life."  
  
"Funny." He muttered, eyes widening and focusing beyond her shoulder. "Xena, you look like the living death."  
  
"He can see you?!" Turning, the bard glanced at her friend.  
  
"He could see me." Xena said softly, hands settling on her abdomen. "Gabrielle, he's slipped away. Let him go. Let him go."  
  
Turning back, the bard rested her head on the bare, quilt-covered chest, frustration rising through her chest, eyes burning. "I don't know why I care..."  
  
"Sometimes, it doesn't matter why...just that you do."  
  
"I have to take him to the Caves."  
  
"Quite a bit of trust he put in you, there." Xena nodded, eyes unwavering in their examination. "You are the new warrior princess."  
  
"Xena, what are you talking about?" Standing, Gabrielle approached the doorway, shoulders tensing.  
  
"He trusted you." An odd look passed across the spirit's face. "And despite the fact that he's out of commission for the foreseeable future, I'm not sure that's good."  
  
"Its just a trip, Xena, a...not quite burial. Somebody has to do it."  
  
"Yes. I think that's his logic as well. With Ares gone nighty night for a few centuries, it looks like his position is open."  
  
"He didn't offer it to me."  
  
"Perhaps it's just a matter of you reaching the point where you'll get it with or without the offer."  
  
"No, Xena. I can't believe you could even think...I'll never become like him. Never."  
  
"For your sake, I hope not." Xena moved aside, watching her friend stomp out the door and towards the kitchen.  
  
*  
  
"Eve." Stepping into the darkened kitchen, the bard moved towards the fireplace, touching her adopted daughter's shoulder. Hurt and shock giving way to concern momentarily, she focused her attentions on Xena's daughter. "Eve, what is it?"  
  
Xena's child turned around, blue eyes tear-rimmed, face unusually haggard.   
  
"Eve." Turning the gentle grip to a hard shake, the bard raised her voice.  
  
"It's...oh, Gabrielle, there's so much I never told you and Mother about my life in Rome."  
  
"Eve." The bard spoke slowly, gently, measuring her words by concern. "The past is in the past. I don't expect you to recount every crime Livia committed. I'm certain Xena only touched upon her own crimes in our time together. We each have countless shadows, and if we pursue them too far, we lose our path to the light..."  
  
"No." The whisper was violent, anguished, elegant fingers gripping her hands with almost desperate fervor. "It isn't just the crimes, Gabrielle. I killed people, I've faced that. I destroyed nations, devastated lives. But I also created them. I had a life in Rome, Gabrielle, not just a warriors dedication to slaughter. I was the wife of Tiberius Claudianius Nero, before Augustus chose me as his own. And I was a mother. We had sons, beautiful sons, Tiberius and Drusus. They were just children when I left Livia behind...they're still just children. And I abandoned them for Eli's way. I've tried to forget them, the past. But its not that simple, is it? You can't forget those born of your flesh. And Eli wouldn't have asked me to. I'm ashamed."  
  
"So Tiberius and Drusus are Ares' gifts." The bard took the younger woman's face in her hands, absorbing the pain and tears, kissing the knitted brows.  
  
"Yes." Eve pulled back, collecting herself. "They were in danger. Augustus wanted to adopt them as his own, but their father had other ideas. He inspires great loyalty in his servants, and one of them attempted to slay the boys. Virgil was in Rome, and with Augustus' blessing took them away. On the journey he was attacked, they were outnumbered. Virgil called upon Ares to help him...and he did, but his gods strength was failing, and he was injured. Aphrodite intervened and spared them all. They came here. I've been nursing Ares, I haven't made time to face the boys and Gabrielle, I don't know if I can. Livia created them. They knew Livia as a mother. What can Eve possibly do with them?"  
  
"What any mother does. Love them."  
  
Her companion met the bard's gaze perceptively. "You speak of Hope."  
  
"And the Destroyer. They were evil, Eve. So evil...it was unimaginable, but still...it killed her. Hope's child turned a lethal blow on her, and held her as she died...and it cried, and she just comforted it. I'll never regret the faith I put in Hope...that one moment taught me better. She was redeemable. I just couldn't find the key to that redemption." Briefly, Gabrielle smiled. "But I thank the gods that we found the key to yours...and so will your sons. They'll only love you more for the change. And so do I."  
  
"I miss her." Eve buried her head on the waiting shoulder again. "I miss Mother."  
  
"I know...I know. It's all right, Evie." Stroking the dark hair, the warrior bard closed her eyes. How very dark, this woman's past, and how sensitive, her soul. The older woman smiled, stroking a cheek this time. "This is Xena's gift as well, I know it. This has to be her way of saying goodbye, and returning to you. She never did have the chance to say goodbye..." And then, the tears were too powerful and too vast to dam, and she cried as well.  
  
*  
  
"You heard?" Hours later, the bard stepped outside, gaze trailing her old friend's. Sunset, scarlet ribbons across a dying sky. Somewhere behind the house, Virgil's put-upon groans echoed with two very young, very childish voices.   
  
"I heard." The spirit of Xena said quietly, arm propped against the entrance post.  
  
"She needs her mother right now. So do they."  
  
"No. No, Gabrielle. I won't upset her. If she hasn't seen me yet, I'm not making an extra effort. She'd shatter all over again. No. She's your daughter now. You make her their mother."  
  
"I don't believe that's what you really want, Xena."   
  
"Of course it isn't!" The warrior princess turned, voice rising, eyes glaring. "I want to go in there and hold my daughter and be her mother for once. I want to hold my grandchildren and teach them what I know and see them *live*, Gabrielle. But I won't, because I may not be here tomorrow. I won't put Eve through the purgatory of losing me and regaining me over and over and I won't become attached to those boys, because I can never be there for them. I'm dead." Her voice lowered, faded. "I'm dead."  
  
"Yes." The bard nodded slowly, sitting on the step. "I think you are...spiritually as well as physically. This isn't you, Xena. The Xena I knew would have fought heaven and hell for her family. Would have scoffed at death. Would have overcome it."  
  
"If you want to blame me, do it." Xena closed her eyes briefly. "Gods know, I deserve it. For the first time in my life...afterlife...I'm an utter coward. I'm sorry, but that's all I can be right now. I wanted to die, Gabrielle. I wanted the redemption, and I wanted the peace. It wasn't fair of me...it was cruel to you, and unjust to Eve. I let Akemi's obsession lead me to my own pit of despair, and destroyed my family for it. But its too late now, forty thousand souls are on my back and I'm too tired to mind."  
  
"Xena, I hate to see you like this." Swallowing her own frustrated tears, the warrior bard reached out a hand, touching the oddly cool, smooth illusion of flesh.   
  
The desperately battling spirit reached out, hands tracing her soulmates face, taking into the tears and lines. The warrior princess' voice softened. "Then you won't. Nor will Eve. I'll return to the teahouse."  
  
"No." Gabrielle gripped the hands, knowing full well that should her friend choose to leave, no amount of fleshly restraint could hold her. "We stop this now, Xena. If you want eternal rest, gods, I'll find it for you. I'll get you into the Elysian Fields somehow...but you will not return to Akemi. You will not, do you hear me? She's destroying you, piece by piece."  
  
"Isn't that what love always seems to come to for us?" Xena whirled, pacing, steps so quick and unearthly that a chill ran up her friend's spine. The warrior princess seemed beyond noting the difference, fingers twisting through her loose hair absently. "This has to stop, Gabrielle. My presence is only hurting you, and hurting me. You'll take Ares to the Cave of Hephaestus...and then we'll see about the Elysian Fields. For you and Solon."  
  
"For *you* and Solon." The bard corrected. "I'll be okay no matter what you choose to do, Xena. I only want you to be at peace."  
  
"I'll try." Xena met her gaze, face awash with mixed emotions. "Gods, I swear to you I'll try. Just...help Eve through this. She needs all the love she can get. She needs a mother."  
  
"You know." Gabrielle linked arms with her soulmate. "I think our daughter is the most beautiful legacy you've bequeathed to me. A warrior is nothing without family, Xena. Nothing if they don't receive love and find it in them to give it in turn."  
  
Xena only reached over, a finger gently hushing further talk. "Or, as Sappho wrote...there's a moment when I look at you, and no speech is left in me...my tongue breaks; then fire races under my skin and I tremble and grow pale for I am dying of such love. Or so it seems to me."  
"And so it seems to me." The bard said softly.  
  
FIN 


End file.
